“Justice, it’s a graduation, not a funeral.”

I barely process Mom’s words. My eyes keep darting across the field, searching the rows of graduates on the grass for the reason I returned to the small oceanside town where I grew up. I’m already sweating through the linen shirt tucked into my dark slacks, and the sun-heated metal of the hard bleachers beneath me only adds to my discomfort.

“Wipe that look off your face.” My mom squints against the bright sun overhead. “This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”

A happy occasion. A clusterfuck circus is what it may become, if I’m not careful. What possessed me to come back for my foster sister’s college graduation after five years away? Why did I accept the invitation mother Lillith extended? Of course, my parents were invited. They were Fi’s foster parents, and have remained in contact throughout Fiona’s stint at the small private college here in Merryn Bay, where she won a full volleyball scholarship. I was proud of her when Mom told me, but I didn’t reach out.

And neither did she.

When I left I told Fiona not to come after me, not to call, and she didn’t. It helped and hurt more than she will ever know. Helped me to focus on my studies and graduate almost a full year early from Stanford. Hurt because…

I can’t allow myself to think about that hurt; that gash her reckless act inflicted on my heart five years ago. How many times have I been tempted to call her; to beg her for anything? To settle for the scraps of platonic friendship she offered me. After all Fiona put me through, I still missed her. Still woke up too many mornings from star-studded dreams of us laughing and eating birthday cake on the balcony that connected our bedrooms from the time I was fourteen years old. I still felt guilty…fucking guilty…every time I slept with someone else.

I’m not hers. She was never mine.

And yet here I am. Dripping sweat, heart thudding heavy in my chest, palms wet, mouth dry. And all because today I’ll see Fiona.

“I wonder where Lillith is?” My mom glances at the diamond and platinum watch my father gave her for their twentieth wedding anniversary. “And your father, too.”

“Reporting for duty, searg.” Dad settles on the bench beside my mom, kissing her on the lips and lingering a second too long.

Those two, both lawyers, Dad the district attorney and my mom in private practice, could never get enough of two things. Their jobs and each other. Little wonder they barely noticed me once I could feed and clothe myself.

“Justice.” Dad reaches across to shake my hand, wearing his man-to-man face. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

Read between the lines. I thought you’d keep dodging Fiona like you have for the last five years.

So I’d spent a couple of Christmases with friends when I knew Fiona and Lillith were invited for the holidays. Does that make me a coward?

Hell, yeah, it does.

“I wouldn’t miss Fiona’s college graduation for the world.” Though I missed her high school graduation. That was just too soon. I share a tight smile with my father across the small space.

“For sure.” Dad raises his dark blonde brows and looks back to Mom without further comment on that matter. “Still no word from Lillith?”

“No, and she’s been so excited about this.” Mom frowns and cranes her neck to search the bustling crowd. “The ceremony is starting soon. I’ve called her, but it keeps going to voice mail.”

I silently agree, knowing firsthand how excited Lillith was about graduation. She called to invite me. It actually wasn’t the first time we’d spoken. I’m pretty sure Lillith never mentioned our few phone calls to Fiona. Even with things fucked up between us, I had to know her mother was staying clean and had a good job. She always answered the few questions about Fiona I mustered the nerve to ask. I know Fiona made Dean’s List. That she was a star athlete, and will probably play pro volleyball after graduation. I know she’s had a few boyfriends, but no one serious.

Whatever the hell that means.

“The ceremony is starting.” Mom grimaces, silences her cell phone and slips it into her purse. “Hopefully, Lillith will get here in time to see Fiona walk.”

After five years, no phone calls, no emails, not even a friggin’ smoke signal – I’m going to see Fiona, and my body can’t figure out if it should run an hour in the other direction, or stay right here, baking in the sun and straining for a glimpse of her.

But I’ll see her.

Some part of me believes I’m here only because I need closure; to see her and know once and for all that she no longer holds my heart in that tight grip. But there’s a part of me afraid she always will.

“There she is.” Mom stands and pulls out her expensive camera, zooming until she smiles. “She’s so beautiful.”

Could there be a more obvious statement? I had hoped memory esteemed Fiona something so extraordinary that the reality of her would be less. Watching her down on the field, finding her place in line, dark hair streaming down her back as she laughs and scans the crowded bleachers for Lillith, and probably for my parents, and definitely not for me, I suspect she has actually become more.